


Least You Can Do

by Evil_Little_Dog



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Community: fma_slashfest, F/F, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-23
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-21 03:04:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/895037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evil_Little_Dog/pseuds/Evil_Little_Dog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary:  Rebecca has her memories.<br/>Disclaimer:  Arakawa would probably frown on this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Least You Can Do

You see her first, and, for a second, your breath catches in your throat. Riza’s dressed in civilian clothes, walking a little black and white dog on a leash. Your eyes light not on the dog, but on her breasts, and drop lower, to the curve of her hips, and even farther down, to where you know would be the juncture of her thighs, if not hidden by her pencil skirt. You know what her body looks like unclothed, all cream and honey, and the thought of it makes your mouth go dry. 

It doesn’t matter, suddenly, why you’re here in Central. You think there really isn’t anywhere else you’d rather be, than sitting at this table, watching your friend walk her dog. You almost wish you didn’t have to call to her, to get her attention, so you could remain alone in your thoughts. 

You remember, suddenly, that first time (that last time), when you’d caught her in the shower unexpectedly, with the water making her hair into a dark gold waterfall, and the pucker and sheen of scars all over her back. You’d made some sound, deep in your throat, and Riza had turned, her eyes widening at the side of you, wrapped in your towel, but your nipples showing just how aroused you were, poking against the rough terrycloth. 

Riza had stared back, holding your eyes, and something in her own made you realize it was all right. You dropped the towel as you crossed the floor of the communal shower, cupping her face in your calloused hands and holding her steady for a few seconds before you kissed her. 

Her lips were softer than you’d expected, and it was a few seconds before she kissed you back, tentatively, at first, then, her hands slid around your waist. You were skin to slippery skin, and the shower kept raining down warm water over you both. In a few seconds, your hair was plastered to your skull and shoulders, but you barely felt it. Instead, all the nerves in your body seemed concentrated where your flesh touched Riza’s. Her breasts were heavy in your hands, and you plucked at her nipples to make her gasp, and swallowed down the moans she made. 

You’d pressed her back against the tile wall, holding her there with your body, making her cry out as you’d tasted, and touched, and tried her. You were both so warm and wet and slick, and so eager for each other. She tasted so good, felt so amazing against you, writhing and twisting on your fingers, on your tongue. Sparks went off between you, despite how wet it was, an ignition you couldn’t ignore. Riza was close, oh, so close, and you were bringing her home - 

But it wasn’t your name she cried out when you made her come. 

You take a deep breath, shaking off the memory, and force a broad smile. Yell, “Yoo hoo, Riza!” at the top of your lungs. 

Those days of just the two of you, they’re long gone. Riza made her choice to follow Mustang, and you, well. You’ll do whatever you can to make sure she stays happy. 

It’s the least you can do.

**Author's Note:**

> FMA_Slashfest prompt: Any/Any: The memories pour in: involuntary arousal, wet hair dripping down someone's back.


End file.
